


Names Scribbled in the Margins of Spell Books

by Prender



Series: Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Crushes, Duelling, F/M, Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prender/pseuds/Prender
Summary: A series of one-shots exploring the relationship between Barnaby Lee and Hogwarts' resident curse-breaker, Nellie Bancroft.
Relationships: Barnaby Lee/Original Character(s), Barnaby Lee/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Breaker of Curses, Dueler of Knights [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901170
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	1. Barnaby's Biggest Second Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barnaby was having second thoughts.
> 
> Now, for Barnaby, those weren't particularly uncommon. In fact, it was probably safe to say that most of his thoughts were second thoughts. (Was he supposed to add Bulbadox Powder to that potion? Wait, do almond scones have tree nuts in them? He was allergic. Was that why his mouth was tingly? Do Romanian Longhorns have one horn, or was it two?) Doubts like that were a constant in his life. One of the only ones, though that was a little embarrassing to admit. But it was safe to say that asking Helena to duel was probably his biggest second thought to date.

**Year 3**

Barnaby was having second thoughts.

Now, for Barnaby, those weren't particularly uncommon. In fact, it was probably safe to say that _most_ of his thoughts were second thoughts. (Was he supposed to add Bulbadox Powder to that potion? Wait, do almond scones have tree nuts in them? He was allergic. Was that why his mouth was tingly? Do Romanian Longhorns have one horn, or was it two?) Doubts like that were a constant in his life. One of the only ones, though that was a little embarrassing to admit. But it was safe to say that asking Helena to duel was probably his biggest second thought to date.

Was he afraid she'd hurt him? No, of course not. Dueling was one of the few things Barnaby could confidently say he was good at, and regardless, he was hardy. He could get up from being knocked down, easy as anything. Rather, it was because he'd afraid _he'd_ hurt _her_.

Not because she was a girl. Ismelda, Merula, his mother—Barnaby had yet to meet a girl that couldn't hold her own in a duel. They put up just as good of a fight as any boy. A better one, sometimes. Merula didn't like to explain things (she said it was a waste of time, when he'd never remember anyway) but she had told him once that it was because girls had to try harder to prove they were good duelers. Boys could just be good. Girls had to be _great_ to be good. That hadn't made much sense to Barnaby, because shouldn't good just be good and great be great? He'd still nodded like it made all the sense in the world.

It wasn't that she couldn't duel, either. From what Barnaby had heard, Helena was a good dueler. One of the great ones. Good enough to beat Merula, time and time again, and if she could walk away from a duel with someone who hated her as much as Merula and be fine, then certainly she could walk away from a duel with someone who liked her alright without suffering any grievous injury.

It was just her, as a whole, that gave him pause. To be honest, when he'd heard Merula rave about Helena Bancroft, Curse-Breaker, Dueler of Knights, he'd been picturing someone quite different. Someone taller, for starters. Someone with a good amount of muscle, who looked like they could take a hit. Maybe some cool scars, to show all the battles she'd apparently taken part in.

The Helena Bancroft standing across from him was...none of those things.

 _"You can just call me Nellie,"_ she'd chirped when they'd met a few short weeks ago, his attempts at being frightening (Merula said that was his job) apparently failing. She hadn't looked very intimidating then, with her crooked Hufflepuff tie and potion stained sleeves, and she didn't look any more intimidating now, twirling her wand and bouncing on the balls of her feet. It was the weekend, so she'd swapped out her robes for a pair of overalls, patterned with shapes that were questionably flowers and definitely hand painted. Two long braids riddled with flyaways hung down her back, and she was smiling at him, wide and friendly—she always seemed to be smiling at him, no matter how hard he tried to scowl. She wasn't exactly the textbook picture of a fierce Curse-Breaker. (Looking at her made him think of _something,_ a place, but he couldn't put his finger on it.)

Then there was the fact that she was, well, _tiny._ The top of her head couldn't even have reached Barnaby's shoulders. Her limbs looked like little toothpicks, long and spindly and bendier than limbs should be, and Barnaby was quite sure that he could literally snap her narrow body in half, if he really tried. That, more than anything, was what worried him. Nellie could be the best dueler in the world, but that wouldn't change the fact that she was little. A spell that might trip someone larger could completely flatten her out.

Barnaby hadn't thought before he asked her to duel. (That wasn't a rare occurrence, either.) To him, dueling was just as much a way to bond as it was to settle an argument, and if he was going to follow her instead of Merula, dueling was more or less a prerequisite. It had seemed to make perfect sense when he'd asked her in the Great Hall. But now, on the brink of the fight, he was starting to see a lot of flaws in his fantastic plan. As much as he liked to win, Barnaby didn't want to be guilty of _flattening_ someone. He didn't want to be guilty of throwing a duel either.

"You ready?" a patient voice called, and when Barnaby looked up, Nellie was still offering him that sugary smile. Right. Maybe it was time to finally start the duel he'd promised her. Barnaby nodded, and drew his wand.

"Yeah." Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give her an out, just to be safe. "Let me—"

_"Flipendo!"_

Barnaby's feet flew out from under him, and he landed on his back with a grunt, blinking up at the sky with eyes wide as moons. Wow. _Wow._ That _hurt._ Flipendo always hurt, obviously, but it had never hurt like _that_ before. Like he was a tiny fly, swatted away by a giant.

"Oops, sorry!" Nellie called in her sweet, mousy voice, and Barnaby lifted his head to gape at her. To her credit, she did look apologetic, wand lowered and smile sheepish. "I thought you said you were ready." Was that a taunt? Barnaby couldn't quite tell. "...you alright?"

"Oh—yeah!" Barnaby scrambled back to his feet, the tips of his ears turning red. His heart was beating uncomfortably hard in his chest, and it wasn't just from having the wind knocked out of him. He got back into position, squaring his shoulders, raising his wand, and Nellie grinned. She didn't look any different. Her hair, a few shades blonder than mousy brown, was still tied in those sloppy braids, and her blue eyes were just as kind as they were before she'd knocked him down. _(The beach!_ That was what she made him think of, with her wet sand hair and ocean eyes and freckles like so many grains of sand!) She wasn't holding herself any differently, either, fingers wrapped loosely around her wand, holding it aloft like a conductor's baton instead of a weapon. What was it about her, then, that suddenly seemed to almost be crackling with magic?

"Then let's duel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they went on to become the most wholesome couple in Hogwarts. Who would've guessed!
> 
> I've completely fallen into the abyss of loving Barnaby, and I especially love him with my version of Jacob's sibling, Nellie Bancroft. This was how I pictured that first duel going. If anyone out there is interested, I do have other ideas for scenes with them, and it would take very, very little prompting to get me to write them.
> 
> This is my first published piece on AO3, so I'd love any and all feedback! I don't have any betas, so until now, the only eyes that have seen this are my own. Hope it's not too painfully obvious!


	2. A Bouquet from Barnaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd first noticed it with the Weasley brothers, during the first Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match of the Quidditch season. Nellie had fought her way over to sit beside him, even though it meant being surrounded by a crowd of scowling strangers that cheered for the opposite team. (That had to mean something, didn't it? That'd she'd put herself through that sort of trouble to snatch a little time with him?) It had been rather hard to focus on the match, what with her being pressed so close to his side, but Barnaby had managed to pick up on all the important points.

**Year 4**

He'd first noticed it with the Weasley brothers, during the first Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match of the Quidditch season. Nellie had fought her way over to sit beside him, even though it meant being surrounded by a crowd of scowling strangers that cheered for the opposite team. _(That had to mean something, didn't it? That'd she'd put herself through that sort of trouble to snatch a little time with him?)_ It had been rather hard to focus on the match, what with her being pressed so close to his side, but Barnaby had managed to pick up on all the important points.

Charlie, he knew, was a seeker for the Gryffindor team. A pretty good one, too, if what Barnaby heard was correct. Bill was playing beater, but only for this one match—he lacked the interest and overwhelming skill for the sport that his younger brother had, but he was still good enough to be on the reserves. With one of the beaters in the hospital wing with a broken leg, he found himself on the pitch for the first time in a while.

"Did you ever want to play Quidditch?" Nellie asked absently, gaze flickering from player to player as they raced through the air, and Barnaby snorted, shaking his head.

"I don't think so," Barnaby muttered, only barely loud enough to be heard over the clamor of the crowd, squinting to try and figure out which players were dressed in green and which were in red. As much as he loved dueling, there really wasn't a single competitive bone in Barnaby's body. In fact, it was probably safe to say that he hated competition. It was too stressful, all that pressure to win, and no matter the outcome, somebody was always going to leave upset. 

"Why not?" Nellie responded, now distinctly curious, "I mean, not like you have to, obviously. I just would've thought it'd be something you'd like." She would know, Barnaby supposed, given that she'd played for the Hufflepuff team two seasons in a row. Did he strike her as a Quidditch player? Was that a good thing? Should he be flattered?

"A bunch of reasons, I guess. I don't really like how intense the competition can get, and the uniforms look kind of uncomfortable." Nellie chuckled, good natured, and Barnaby's heart skipped a little. It was such a lovely noise. "And, uh....well, you promise not to laugh?" _That_ certainly got Nellie to look away from the match, eyebrows shooting up and eyes alight with interest.

"Of course," she answered, without so much as a beat of hesitation, and Barnaby believed her. Nellie had never laughed at him before. Never in a way that made him feel small or stupid or weak. Barnaby glanced around furtively, making sure none of the surrounding students were listening, then leaned in.

"...I'm kind of scared of heights," Barnaby confessed, lowering his voice, "My hands get all sweaty, and my stomach feels funny, and I start shaking. All over. Which only makes me more scared, because if I'm shaking, I can't hold on as well." Nellie's eyes softened, and she placed a hand on back, far gentler than he was used to being touched, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades.

"Barnaby...you don't have to be embarrassed of that," Nellie soothed, and when he still didn't meet his eyes, breathed a heavy sigh. She was quiet for a moment, debating with herself, then tilted her head to meet his eyes. "I'm still scared of thunderstorms." Barnaby glanced up, surprised, and Nellie shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. "They're just so loud. Jacob told me once that it was giants bowling, but that just freaked me out even more. I was scared the giant bowling balls would rip through the clouds and crush my house." Barnaby chuckled, and Nellie visibly brightened at the sound. "We're all scared of something, Barnaby. If someone says they're not scared of anything, they're a big ol' liar." Barnaby considered this for a moment, weighing her assurance against his father's cruel snarls about fear and weakness that he still remembered so vividly, when something else dawned on him.

"Wait...what's bowling?" Nellie blinked at him for a moment, caught off guard, then barked a laugh.

"Right! I completely didn't think that you'd probably never heard of it," she started, giving another amused laugh, "Well, it's this game where—"

At that exact moment, Bill zipped across the pitch, drawing all eyes and several gasps with the motion. He reached Charlie just in time, batting a bludger away from his outstretched arm—and allowing Charlie to grab the snitch, catapulting Gryffindor to victory.

"YES! _That's_ my boys!" Nellie cheered, jumping to her feet and clapping above her head, even as the surrounding students glowered at her, "Whoo!" She whipped around, cheeks rosy with excitement and eyes sparkling, and grabbed both of Barnaby's hands in her own. "Did you see that?! They did it!" Barnaby's heart fluttered, and he gave her a breathless smile, a little afraid his hands were about to start shaking in hers, just like when he was on a broom. (She had such small hands, compared to his.) This was a sort of fear too, he supposed, just as overwhelming but much, much more positive.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, they did," Barnaby agreed eagerly, and Nellie gave an excited laugh, turning to face the pitch once more. Still clutching one of Barnaby's hands (definitely trembling now) in hers, she threw the other high in the air, whooping in celebration. In spite of the judgmental stares of his peers, Barnaby found himself getting to his feet as well, spurred by Nellie's overwhelming delight. If cheering for _her boys_ made her happy, it made him happy too. "He did it!" he screamed, grinning from ear to ear, "Go, Charlie!"

Barnaby was sure he'd hear all about this tonight, in the common room. He'd get ripped apart, definitely, for showing such a blatant lack of support for his house. But it was worth it, he thought, for the way Nellie beamed at him.

* * *

Then it was Andre Egwu, when they were planning for the Celestial Ball. They'd all been gathered in the Charms room, discussing what they wanted to wear while Andre scribbled notes on a spare piece of parchment.

"Are you sure you want to make them all, Andre?" Penny pressed, nervously fidgeting with the roll of streamers in her lap. She hadn't stopped crimping them for a second, even when they'd all agreed to take a break from making decorations. She was insistent on creating every little fold by hand, which seemed a little silly to Barnaby—surely, there was a spell that could do it much faster, and make them all more uniform—but he knew better than to question Penny's logic when she was as stressed as the Celestial Ball had made her. "It has to be a lot of work."

"Nah, it'll be fun," Andre answered brightly, not looking up from his parchment, "I've been spending all my time on the Pitch lately. It'll be nice to work on my fashion skills instead of my Quidditch skills for once." Merlin, that was so many skills. How was that fair? How did Andre possibly have time to cultivate more than one skill, _and_ keep up his grades? Maybe Barnaby should ask him for advice.

"That's my boy; I knew you could handle it," Nellie stated confidently, tossing an arm around Andre's shoulders and giving him an affectionate little shake, "I don't know if you've heard, but he's pretty much a fashion master." She tipped her head to rest lightly atop Andre's, shooting Penny a playfully cocky look, and Barnaby was almost embarrassed by the small twinge of jealousy in his gut.

It hadn't taken long to realize that Nellie was a very _physical_ person, always trying to establish contact. Whether it was toying with Rowan's hair or looping her arm through Penny's or knocking her hip against Tulip's in passing, she always seemed to be reaching for somebody. Barnaby could still distinctly remember the first time she'd ruffled his hair, the almost tender way her fingers had glided down to rest on the back of his neck once she considered his hair suitably tousled. It didn't mean anything, the way she leaned into Andre, and even if it did, Barnaby had no right to be jealous. It wasn't as though they were together. Barnaby's face got hot at the thought, and he looked away, down at the tile floor. He couldn't even find the courage to ask Nellie to the ball, let alone to ask her to be his girlfriend.

Perhaps Andre would ask her first. He was smart and charismatic, good at Qudditch and good at fashion. He could make her pretty clothes, and they could chase each other around the Quidditch Pitch, laughing and talking about all the things that Barnaby couldn't understand. They deserved each other, and he was certainly a better match for her than Barnaby could ever hope to be.

And the selfish hope Barnaby held—the hope that, that in spite of all the good that could from it, Andre _wouldn't_ ask—only proved it.

* * *

Pouring over his Transfiguration spell book, Barnaby couldn't help but think it was an awfully good thing that Nellie had introduced him to Talbott Winger. 

Barnaby had never spoken to him before, but everyone in their year knew Talbott was as close to a Transfiguration prodigy as anyone could be. Barnaby, unfortunately, was much the opposite. It wasn't his fault, really; transfiguration was a famously difficult branch of magic. He may not have struggled with it the same way he did with Potions or History of Magic—both of which involved _far_ too much memorization, in his opinion—but it certainly wasn't his best class. Being tutored by Talbott may as well have been a gift from Merlin himself. Barnaby would have to thank Nellie again later, for getting Talbott to agree. He doubted anyone else would have managed it.

After all, Talbott was just as well known for his nearly extreme introversion as he was for his equally extreme skill in Transfiguration. And even if he _had_ been the outgoing sort, Barnaby was fairly sure that Talbott, with his sharp eyes and clipped voice, didn't like him very much. He must've been a nice enough fellow, if Nellie liked him so much, but really, he was going to strain his eyes if he continued to roll them after every sentence Barnaby spoke, and the way he sighed each time Barnaby tried the spell without success made it clear that he was getting frustrated.

Nellie had never once made Barnaby feel stupid, even when she had to remind him of the incantations for common spells or brew him a hasty antidote after he'd drank a bad potion. Talbott didn't have quite the same tact, nor the patience. Still, there he sat with his spell book, in the library on a perfectly lovely day, correcting Barnaby's grip on his wand and giving him advice. Because he'd told Nellie he would. It was a rather eclectic group of friends she'd amassed, wasn't it? How were there so many people who owed her favors for mysterious reasons?

"Look who it is!" Speak of the devil. Before Barnaby could even turn toward that welcome voice, one spindly arm looped around his neck, the other around Talbott's. Bending over the back of the bench, Nellie pulled them both in, planting a firm kiss on each of their cheeks. (Barnaby immediately felt his face burn red, the heat spreading up to the tips of his ears and down the length of his neck. Talbott seemed unfazed.) "What're my boys up to?" Nellie asked softly, leaning in a little further to try and peer at the text book resting on the table. A curtain of sandy blonde hair slipped over her shoulder, and just faintly, Barnaby caught the scent of cherry shampoo.

"We're still working on Orchideous," Talbott answered with a sigh, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, "All we've managed so far is weeds, if anything sprouts at all." The warmth in Barnaby's face was rapidly growing uncomfortable, shifting from a delighted flush to an embarrassed burn, and he cast his gaze down to the table, not wanting to see the disappointment in Nellie's face. She gave a contemplative hum, still lounging against the back of the bench.

"What kind of weeds?" 

"Dandelions," Barnaby muttered, picking at the etching in the handle of his wand with his thumb. It wasn't until Nellie squeezed his shoulder that he dared to peek up, only to find that there was no displeasure on her face. None at all. In fact, she had lit up.

"Hey, those are still flowers!" Nellie whispered encouragingly, giving him a tiny, excited shake, "It's a great start! Soon enough, you'll have conjured up a whole garden, I'm sure of it." Tentatively, Barnaby let himself relax.

"Really?" he asked, a little too loud, and then shot a placating smile in Madam Pince's direction. Scowling, she turned back to the books she was sorting.

"For sure!" Nellie confirmed, giving him a smile so radiant Barnaby was almost surprised it didn't blind him, and then turned her gaze to Talbott, "Especially with this one on your side." The hand on Talbott's shoulder lifted to try and pinch his cheek, but he batted it away, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," Talbott snorted, but he was grinning, far more fondly than he intended to, "Showering me with praise isn't going to get you out of your end of the deal." What was she trading for this tutoring session? Barnaby had never been the curious sort, but still, he wanted to know. Nellie seemed to have that effect on him, making him want to learn and understand everything he could. It was a new feeling.

"Eh, worth a shot," Nellie responded cheekily, pulling away at last and looking over her shoulder at the rows and rows of bookshelves that filled the room behind them, "Anyway, I need a book on Centaurs—" An odd choice. "—and Penny asked me to pick up a copy of _Hogwarts: A History,_ because she wants to read all about how the Celestial Ball was hosted before and take advice from that or whatever, so I should probably get on that. I just wanted to check in with you guys while I was here," she continued, turning back to the duo with a kind smile, "Keep up the good work, alright?" With one last, small squeeze to Barnaby's shoulder, Nellie pulled away.

For a moment, they both watched her go. Then Talbott turned his gaze back to Barnaby, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as Barnaby gazed into the distance, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from the end of the aisle Nellie had disappeared into.

"Congratulations," Talbott commented dryly, leaning forward in his seat and pulling the spell book closer, "Looks like you've been promoted to one of the boys."

A distinctly giddy feeling blossomed in Barnaby's chest, one that was almost impossible to describe. It was like a whole brood of gold, sparkling bubbles had taken up residence in his ribcage, or like his heart had eaten a Fizzing Whizbee, floating a few feet off the ground and practically vibrating with the excitement of being airborne.

 _He_ was one of her boys.

A beautiful bouquet of gardenias, larkspur, and violets burst from the tip of Barnaby's wand the very next time he tried, and he knew exactly who he wanted to give it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to continue! I really appreciated the kind comments, and I can't even begin to explain how exciting it was to watch the number of hits grow!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I was very excited to get the chance to research flower meanings again. For those who were wondering, gardenias mean "secret love," larkspur means "lightness," and violets mean "devotion."
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> P.S. If you'd like to know more about Nellie, I made a character sheet for her that you can find here: https://yet-another-greek-myth-gay.tumblr.com/post/617801230113226752/i-know-there-isnt-a-person-on-earth-who-cares


End file.
